


Alternative Endings

by justmeandmysillystuff



Series: The History of Us [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Coronavirus, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Here's a bandaid for the angst, Historical, M/M, Quarantine, Reincarnation, Victorian, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmeandmysillystuff/pseuds/justmeandmysillystuff
Summary: History is already written, but we can always keep writing.This fanfic is just alternative endings for every chapter of my reincarnation au: The History of Us. Since some of them ended quite tragically, I decided to offer some historical fluff for the soul.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: The History of Us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791973
Comments: 25
Kudos: 33





	1. XV Century

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Me again  
> I decided I couldn't live with the angst so I wrote some fluff. I didn't change what happened in the original version, but somehow I managed not to kill anyone. Enjoy my delirium.  
> PS: this was supposed to be short...IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 2 PAGES LONG  
> AND YOU HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN THE VICTORIAN ONE YET, damn, I have no self control.

_“And in the infinite line that is the universe_

_there may be knots and twists_

_time may wrinkle, wobble or tangle_

_but you can never cut the string_

_Destiny, like the universe_

_may be infinite as well_

_two lovers found each other_

_through the paths of life and death_

_They fought dragons and demons_

_they battled the claws of time_

_sometimes they were defeated_

_yet they never gave up_

_After yet another failure_

_after yet another pray_

_the gentleman held his lover_

_pulled her closely and said:_

_My darling, don’t you fear_

_two souls may be pulled apart_

_but you can’t break the communion_

_of those who were born as one_

_So don’t worry about fatalities_

_don’t let death bring you to your knees_

_our love is wider than infinity_

_our love, is."_

Yuuri listened to the minstrel, absentminded; his basket of wooden crafts beginning to feel way too heavy after several minutes of stillness.

“And what happened next?” He asked, holding it in a different position.

The minstrel looked around, as if trying to find someone else in the public, finding it hard to believe the question had come from an artisan.

“Excuse me?”

“What happened to the lovers? Did they find each other again?”

Yuuri had always liked listening to the different stories and songs the minstrels had to offer, it was his favorite part of going to town. Whenever his family finished a new set of wooden crafts to exchange in the markets, he was always the one who volunteered for the trip.

“You want to know the end of the story? You?” The man said, looking curiously into his basket for a second. “Hmm, I don’t think I remember very clearly…”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, placing his heavy luggage in the ground and fishing for something inside.

“Is this enough?” He offered a bowl he had craved himself.

The minstrel took it in his hands, examining it carefully. He narrowed his eyes.

“Barely. Not worth the full story, but enough for a little clue.”

“What kind of clue?”

The man put the bowl away, packing his stuff as if he didn’t have time to keep talking.

“The story doesn’t need a proper end. The lovers’ bodies may be deep underground, but their souls are eternal.” He turned to leave, waving back with his hand “Love is infinite”

“Wait! But what happens to the souls? Where do they go?”

“That, young man, is up to your interpretation. Goodbye”

And before any more questions could be asked, he left.

Yuuri grunted bitterly, feeling a little cheated, as he picked up his basket from the ground. That was a pretty nice bowl. His family had asked specifically for some bread, and instead he was wasting their goods with some incomplete nonsense.

As he made his way through town though, he tried to make some sense out of the minstrel’s words. It was useless. He was certain his imagination used to be better than that. He still remembered those camping nights in the forest, with the bonfire and the fresh fruit. The silly stories, the suspense and the acting. The laughter. He used to be the best storyteller, sometimes it lasted for hours; entire nights under the starry sky, sitting close to each other, sharing heat and crazy thoughts.

That had been years ago.

Now, more than ever, stories felt like a distant, incoherent thing. Especially stories about love. Maybe he had been way too disconnected with the topic lately. Maybe, he had forgotten what if felt like to feel infinite.

He found a nice lady willing to trade some loafs of bread and he showed her his crafts. As she searched within the basket, he started noticing a lot of people walking in the same direction.

“What’s going on over there?” He asked her, but received an uninterested shrug for an answer.

He could hear loud mumbling, a small crowd beginning to gather near the entrance of the castle. Normally, whenever commoners got too close to Lord Giacometti, guards were fast to keep them away. Standing near the lord’s property was only allowed during carnival or some especial occasion, and that seemed to be the case.

Curiosity won over him. Yuuri excused himself and let the lady examine his merchandise by herself. He made his way through the crowd; he couldn’t quite remember when it had been the last time he got so close to the castle. During carnival he usually got so drunk he forgot where he was, so he wasn’t really familiar with the place. He tried asking a few people what was going on, but nobody was quite sure. They were all there trying to catch a piece of news.

Whatever it was it must have been important, because the novelty was exiting the castle and joining the multitude. And after a few moments, Lord Giacometti himself appeared.

“They are back” He heard a lady whisper, gaze lost in the horizon. “It’s them”

Yuuri turned to look, narrowing his eyes against the blinding sun. He recognized the shape of horses, armored bodies and the flag of their kingdom being carried with pride. His heart dropped to his stomach.

“Your heroes are back, people.” Lord Giacometti raised his voice. “Applaud the heroes who risked their lives for yours, and those who lost it in the attempt. We may have lost this battle, our kingdom may be smaller and our lands fewer. But our men are braver and stronger, and a few of them came back to us today after five long years.”

Yuuri searched within the gallop and the clinking metal of the armors. He tried to get closer, pushing people until he was in the front line, in a senseless hunt for a strand of silver hair, a flash of pale blue eyes, a solid piece of evidence that he was there. That he was alive.

They were few of them, very few. As they neared the castle in solemn silence, people began to notice their injuries, their sour faces. Most of them didn’t even dare to look at the crowd, guiding their horses inside the castle, immune to the ovation.

Many of the villagers began to break from the mass, venturing themselves through the knights in the search of their loved ones. Some of them asked around, only to be given the worst of news.

“Viktor!” Yuuri shouted, moving between horses and armors, getting crushed in their deadened march “Viktor!”

He went back and forth between the short line of soldiers, searching again, as if he could have missed the sight of him by any chance. He was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t bring himself to cry, but his throat felt bloated and his vision got blurry, seeing the same tired faces every time, with no one responding to his desperate calls.

“Viktor!” He tried one last time.

Exhaustion was quick to bring him down, shaking his knees from the mere emotional effort. His restless running turned into a slow, hopeless dragging of his feet, as he reached the end of the line for the fifth time and Viktor still wasn’t there.

“Are you looking for Sir Viktor?” He felt a hand on his shoulder. A dark-haired man with a bandaged arm was smiling at him, reassuringly. “He is a bit delayed, I fear. Wounded knights are being carried in stretchers or carts and they’re slower.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“He’s alive?”

“Severely injured, but yes. Stubborn man, let me tell you. Refusing to leave the battlefield, and then refusing to die after his accident.” Before he could even ask any questions, the man pointed at something behind him. “Look, there they come”

A new set of figures appeared in the distance: slow, hobbling steps and heavy carts marching tiredly towards the castle. Yuuri ran, leaving the man behind, meeting the troops halfway. He looked around, but he couldn’t find him on top of any horse or stretcher; and he was about to call his name again, until a familiar neighing caught him by surprise.

A horse, brown fur and wavy mane, stopped walking to bump its head onto his shoulder.

“Makkachin?” Yuuri took his hand to the front of its muzzle, petting softly. “If you are here, where’s…”

He turned to the cart Makkachin was pulling, a simple wooden structure with a white tent on top. Without thinking twice, he ran to the back and opened the curtain.

Five years melted into a single second.

His hair was long, even longer than when they were kids; his face looked boney and pale, and quite an ugly scar split his lip and the side of his chin.

But his chest was moving, going up and down in gentle breaths. His fingers were curled around the blanket like he did whenever his slept. And as soon as Yuuri opened the curtain and let the sunset’s beam in, his eyes shot open and fluttered against the light.

He was alive.

“Yuuri?” He propped on his elbows, lifting up his torso, the blanket falling and folding on top of his lap.

“Viktor”

Yuuri stared, petrified by the surreal sight of his lover, so wounded and different from his memory’s savings. The relief from seeing him alive; the consciousness of having spent almost five whole years in numb anguish, just waiting for life to pass by; it all hit him like a sudden wave. He saw time, all those absent months, tangled in the ends of Viktor’s long hair, in the dry blood of his lip and the tired wrinkles under his eyes.

He couldn’t move, trying to find himself in time and space, waiting for the sight of the man in front of him to make sense inside his head. To feel real, and not like just another disappointing dream.

Viktor seemed to react sooner, his hands flying to cover his mouth. And as soon as he heard the first sob, Yuuri’s body was throwing itself into the cart, wrapping his arms around the knight.

“It’s you” Viktor pressed his mouth onto his shoulder “It’s really you”

“You are alive.”

Their words were almost like a proof check, they just wanted to hear themselves saying it. They both ran their hands through the other’s back, their arms, their shoulders, trying to believe it was genuine.

“Dear God, I can’t believe it’s you. Did you wait for me? All of this time?”

“Of course I did” Yuuri let go, grabbing his face between his hands and staring at him, as if he might disappear if he blinked too much. “I can’t believe you are here, and in one piece!”

“Well, about that…”

Viktor took a deep breath, making his lover move from his position straddling his hips, and removing the blanket. Yuuri’s breath got stuck in his throat.

“I know, it’s odd to look at.” Viktor sat up, grabbing his bandaged thigh and letting his fingers search for what wasn’t there anymore. “It’s been months and it still feels fake every time I see it”

The mismatching sight of the missing limb was disorienting, and it felt like that last picture of a nightmare you remember when you wake up.

“Was this…was this done by a sword?” Yuuri asked, trying to look at him in the eye as he spoke, but his gaze kept going downwards.

“Mostly. The medics finished the job afterwards.”

“I can’t believe it” His hand moved towards it but retracted immediately, afraid it might cause Viktor pain or offend him. Yet, he was grabbed by the wrist and pulled in slowly, his fingers falling gently onto the bandaged wound. “Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes, depends on what position I sit.”

“I see…”

Yuuri didn’t really know what to say, and he limited himself to caress his thigh in pained silence, staring at it.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to deal with this.” Viktor said all of a sudden.

“What?”

“You have no idea of how useless I’ve become. I can’t stand up by myself, not even to go pee, Yuuri.” He sighed, turning his face away. “I won’t get mad if you decide you don’t have time for this. The woodwork already takes you enough time, it’s not your job to nurse me”

“If you think I waited five bloody years to give up on you now, you are very stupid.”

Viktor looked up at him for a second but immediately retracted his gaze again. He pursed his lips, taking his lover’s hand away from his absent limb.

“Things will never be the same again, I won’t be able to do most of the stuff we used to do together. No hunting, no fruit collecting, no long walks in the forest. This is not the life I promised you”

“You’ll get better”

“Love, I’m missing a leg.”

“I’ll make you a new one, in wood.”

“You don’t know how to do that”

“I’ll learn”

“There’s no way you can possibly…”

“Viktor” He grabbed him by the chin, forcing the eye-contact. “I’ve been waiting ages for you to come back, and I won’t let your stupid ego take you away from me. I want to take care of you, if that means I can stay by your side. Do you want me to? Do you want me to stay by your side?”

Viktor stared at him with wide eyes

“More than anything in the world”

“It’s settled, then.”

Yuuri leaned in, catching his mouth in a peaceful kiss, keeping him from babbling any more nonsense. He received no resistance whatsoever, feeling a kind pair of hands rest on the low of his back. Gravity did its thing, and after a few seconds, he let the weight of his body rest onto Viktor’s, pressing their chests together as they cuddled.

“I knew you would stay that.” He heard him say smugly, chin resting on his shoulder.

Yuuri snorted, kissing the top of his head.

“You did look kind of preoccupied though.”

“No I was not.”

“Hmm, if you say so…”

They were interrupted by someone opening the curtain again, the dark-haired man from before staring at them from outside the cart.

“I’m very sorry to disturb, but they’re waiting for Sir Viktor at the castle.” He said, pretending he didn’t want to stare, but eyeing curiously nonetheless.

“Yeah, sorry Georgi. Guide Makkachin inside the fort” Viktor cleared his throat his throat. “And please, be discreet about what you just witnessed.”

“Is this famous Yuuri Katsuki?”

“The one and only”

“Famous?” Yuuri felt left out.

“Oh, you should have heard him when the injury got him delirious, I don’t know if it was the blood loss or the temperature: _Oh, Yuuri, Yuuri, where is Yuuri!_ I always assumed it was a girl he was talking about but…”

“That’s enough, Georgi.” Viktor smiled through gritted teeth. “Please make Makka pull the cart into the castle.”

Georgi shrugged, laughing a little to himself as he closed the curtain, and in no second the horse was back in march. The cart started moving, and Yuuri stared at Viktor with quite an impish look on his face.

“Before you say anything, I’m not embarrassed.” The knight shielded his honor, crossing his arms. “I missed you and I was in a state of vulnerability”

Yuuri hummed contently, pushing him back to a resting position, and placing his head on his chest.

They were nearing the entrance, and they both knew too well than an artisan wasn’t allowed inside the fort. They didn’t care. Viktor could make him pass as a servant, or his personal carer now that he was disabled. Or maybe, there would be no need for lying. Maybe they could make an exception, and grant an injured, brave knight his biggest whim.

As they felt the fort’s gate closing behind them, they looked at each other and giggled, feeling like two little kids playing hide and seek. Just like it used to be when they were young, fooling around the forest; and just like it would be in the future, in the days to come, for the rest of infinity.


	2. XVII Century

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this chapter ready when I posted the last one already...I gotta admit I'm going a bit insane with my obsession with the victorian era. It's SO long, you have no idea. And it's still not done...I wanted it to be almost finished by the time I posted this, so that the time gap between chapters wasn't so disproportional. So yeah...lmao I hope you enjoy this one. It's short, but I tried to make it sweet.

Yuuri opened his eyes but closed them right away. The world around him wasn’t patient with his nausea, spinning around and being too much to handle.

 _“I think he’s waking up.”_ He heard a female voice, familiar but distant. He wasn’t sure if it came from outside or inside his head. _“He blinked.”_

_“Did he? I didn’t see it”_

_“I think de did”_

His senses came back gradually, one by one. He smelt food in the air, something warm and vapory, and his own mouth tasted like his empty stomach. Aside from the voices, the sparking and cracking from a fire could be heard in the distance. Both under and on top of him, he felt soft, mushy fabric.

_“He isn’t moving, Yuuko.”_

_“I saw him!”_

_“Shhh! You’ll wake up the kids!”_

Yuuri tried to open his eyes again, this time slowly. Figures were still wobbly and confusing but it was tolerable. He distinguished two people in front of him, and a source of warm light coming from behind.

“Look! Takeshi I told you!” It was Yuuko leaning above him, whispering loudly. “Yuuri, Yuuri honey, are you alright?”

He didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to, words still didn’t quite make sense inside his head. After blinking several times, the room around him began to take shape.

“I think he’s still confused, we should let him rest.”

“No! He needs to eat right away. Go to our room, I’ll take care of it from now on” A new weight fell onto his shoulder, a hand shaking him carefully. “Yuuri, I need you to drink some soup. Could you do that for me? You just fainted, you need food.”

He remembered the cold, the humid street in which he had passed out. He remembered the shivers, the freezing mud in between his naked toes, and it didn’t make sense against the warm, cozy present. He remembered the sky blurring out from his vision, a pair of arms holding him close, a pleading voice.

“Where’s Viktor?” He asked, still half-asleep, rolling his head to the side of the pillow.

Yuuko grabbed his face in her hand, not letting him fall asleep again and palming his cheek repeatedly.

“Hey, no sleeping again! Come on, sit up for me. Look.” Something was pressed onto his face, just underneath his nose. “Smell.”

The scent reminded him of his old house, the big pots of stew, his mom. Large dinner tables with all of his family reunited around the food, after a long day of working in the fields.

As he let Yuuko feed him a spoonful of soup, he started to silently cry.

She said nothing, acting like she didn’t notice, as she continued to make him drink. After he had calmed down, she handed him the bowl so that he could continue by himself, sipping slowly.

“Where’s Viktor?” He asked again, covering his mouth after a small hiccup.

Yuuko smiled, pointing at the floor right next to the bed. Yuuri looked downwards curiously, only to find his friend asleep and cocooned inside a blanket.

“We offered him the couch, but he refused to leave.” She kneeled next to him, placing a pillow underneath his head. “He also said he wouldn’t sleep till you woke up, but I guess he couldn’t keep up with that one. It makes sense, after all he had to walk.”

Yuuri placed the bowl on the nightstand, taking a hand to the silver strands of hair falling on his face. He was warm and safe, just like him. Finally, relief kicked in.

“What happened?” He asked her, not even turning his head. He let his fingers caress the pale skin of his cheekbones, now tainted pink with the room’s heat. “I can’t remember.”

“You were both making your way here, because you wanted to sleep at our barn. Apparently you weren’t feeling very well, and you passed out in the middle of the street. Viktor was fast to react, realizing you were starving, and carried you in his arms all the way here.” Yuuko said, pouring him a cup of water. “You know we don’t normally get kids into the house, we really don’t have much room here and it would be unfair to let one or two in and send the rest to the barn, but we made an exception. You were really pale, and your pulse was slow.”

Yuuri recalled the malaise, the nausea, how he couldn’t bring himself to eat the bread. Soup was liquid and easier to digest, and being cozy inside a house made everything better. He sat up again to take a few sips of water, eyes still lingering protectively over his sleeping friend.

“Did he eat?”

“Yes, we gave him some soup as well, don’t worry.” A gentle smile took over her mouth, and she made a small pause before she said: “You two are something else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you are always together, watching over the other… it’s endearing.”

Viktor shifted in his sleep a bit, and Yuuri watched his every movement with guardian eyes. When they were in the streets they always took turns to rest, it made them feel safer, so he was very used to the sight of his snoozing friend. Yet never in such a kind environment, never wrapped around a blanket or with a pillow under his head. He looked so peaceful, with the orange light of the fireplace playing with the shadows of his face. It made Yuuri feel at ease as well.

“My family got arrested for not paying taxes and his parents starved. He’s all I have left, and I’m all he has left.”

Yuuko ducked her head, grimacing to herself.

“I’m sorry to hear that. It breaks my heart, there’s so many kids out there…hungry, lonely. I feel so impotent but all I can do is lending them my barn to pass the night.”

“That’s more than enough. Thank you, for everything.” He said, as politely as possible. “How long can I stay here?”

“Until you feel better, don’t worry. If it were for me I would cook for you every day, but I have three daughters, you know? And even if Takeshi’s shop is still working, the economic crisis brings less and less clients. I don’t know for how long we’ll have food to spare...”

Yuuri nodded, trying not to make his disappointment too obvious.

“It’s ok, I understand”

“Well, I think we both need some rest.” Yuuko picked up the bowl of soup from the nightstand, but left the cup of water just in case he felt thirsty during the night. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He was about to shake his head on instinct. He was very tired, and he was already grateful enough with all he had received. However, as he heard the light snoring coming from the floor, he felt a question rumbling inside his tired mind.

“Can Viktor stay here for as long as I do?”

Yuuko stopped by the doorframe, gaze falling on the sleeping kid as well.

“Of course.” She said, gifting him one last smile. “I can’t possibly imagine you two being apart.”

She closed the door behind her silently, leaving Yuuri to sleep.

He leaned on his side, facing Viktor. For a moment, he considered waking him up and making some room for him under the covers, but it was better to let him sleep. Carefully, he let a hand fall from the side of the bed to rest on top of Viktor’s, tangling their fingers softly. He felt a light squish, probably unconscious, and he squished back, caressing the back of his palm with his thumb.

As he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, Yuuri thought he couldn’t imagine them being apart, either.


	3. XIX Century

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long is this? Yes
> 
> I have no excuse for how long this is...I'm ashamed, I have no self control. I really wanna know your opinion, this took me forever lmao but I'm obsessed with the victorian era

Viktor felt a strong disassociation, a wicked sense of macabre nostalgia lingering in the air of the living room. It was almost the same as it was back then: the silver, the patterned fabrics, the excessive ornamentation. The furniture had been rearranged a little, and the cloth of the upholstery and the curtains wasn’t as new and shiny anymore. But if he tried hard enough, he could still remember the tea parties, his wife Adelia sipping on her tea with her puffy purple dress seven years ago.

In the present, Adelia didn’t look as bubbly anymore. She was dressed in black, standing right beside him, holding the child and avoiding his gaze at all cost. The light entering through the window wasn’t sunny and yellow, but the intermittent flash of lightning from an upcoming storm. The coffee table in the center had been removed; in its place, there was a big wooden coffin instead.

_“We are all gathered here today to commemorate the life of one of the many children of God…”_

Not many had attended the funeral, the weather and the location didn’t help. His father had lived the last portion of his life overseas, and he barely had any friends in his old hometown. When his illness got too obvious, he had come back to spend his last few days in company of his family. Unfortunately, Viktor couldn’t make it on time. He was in his three day long trip back home when it happened, and he arrived to the news his old man had died two nights prior.

He had barely had any time to digest it. As soon as he got there, the preparatives for the ceremony were already ongoing, and there was a black suit waiting for him on top of his bed.

He could see Yurio growing impatient in Adelia’s arms. It had been a tiring sequence of events, especially for a three year-old: first the eternal carriage trip and then the funeral without any time to rest in between. 

_“Please, embrace this noble man’s spirit and show him the light. Reward him for his merits on earth: a happy wife and son, a loving family, that today is here with him to say goodbye”_

His mother was sitting by the coffin, sniffing into a black handkerchief. She listened to the priest carefully, nodding to his every word. Viktor couldn’t bring himself to feel so much grief. He felt like the uneasiness in his chest was mere osmosis, the effects of the gloominess in the air. He had never been close to his father; not because he didn’t like him, but because he never got the chance. The man had never stayed in the house for more than a few days in a row throughout his childhood, and after he had moved in with Adelia he never saw him again. He received letters constantly though, invitations to his house overseas he had never accepted, and now he kind of regretted.

Yurio was beginning to whimper, and his wife was beginning to lose her patience.

“Viktor…” She whined, looking at him with tired eyes.

He extended his arms, offering to hold him instead. But the movement seemed to upset the child even further, and he began to throw his fists in the air.

“Hold him properly, Viktor” She muttered in a whisper.

“I’m trying…”

 _“In the name of the Father, the son, and the holy spirit….”_ Everyone did the sign of the cross in unison. It was hard to join with a toddler throwing a tantrum though, so Viktor could barely catch up, holding Yurio and rubbing his back all with the same hand. _“Amen”_

Not only the furniture felt out of place.

As the priest’s speech got to an end and the guests said their last goodbyes, Viktor’s eyes wandered the hallways, the staircase, in the search of that missing warmth he so vividly remembered; the towels folded like swans, the bread without the crust, the warm hands fixing his shirt and his scarf before every stupid tea party. But there were no traces of any of that.

He was nowhere to be found.

***

Later that evening, after they came back from the burial, Viktor had dinner with his mother. Adelia had excused herself, saying she wasn’t hungry and locking herself in their room with the kid, so the servants set the table for two. He saw them coming and going from the kitchen with especial attention, yet most of them he couldn’t recognize. He identified Yuuko, the housekeeper, who he greeted fondly. If they had been alone in the room, he would have liked to ask her a few questions.

Chatter wasn’t exactly homely. He hadn’t seen his mother in three years after she had come to visit them when Yurio was born; and yet all they could talk about was his father’s will. Apparently his old man had destined half of his fortune for each. They both would receive a fair amount of money plus a property: his mother got the mansion they were currently at, and Viktor got his house overseas. They discussed whether he should keep it or sell it, since he wasn’t really interested in it. The true gift his father had given him was a high rank at his company some years ago. He barely did any work, and yet he could afford an upper middle class lifestyle for him, his wife and son.

After the topic had worn out, they both ate in silence. They weren’t exactly in good terms after all that had happened, and peace within them was only achievable by ignoring the matter. Yet, he wasn’t good at staying quiet.

“Is he still here, mother?” He asked, voice low and grave, looking at her dead in the eye. “Don’t forget we have a deal.”

She snorted lightly, taking a spoonful of her dessert.

“I do remember, Viktor. I wish I could forget.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s here, he’s here. Don’t worry, I don’t break my promises, he’s still the butler.” She shrugged. “If he hasn't shown up yet, it’s because he doesn't want to.”

After he was done eating, he thanked Yuuko and the other two maids who had served the table, even if he didn’t really know them. He wondered if Takeshi, the cook, was still working there. Or Phichit, the gardener. Yuuri used to be good friends with them.

He went upstairs slowly, exhausted, and wanting to delay his inevitable encounter with Adelia. They haven’t been sleeping on the same bed for months now, but she insisted they did at his mother’s house. She didn’t want her to know how fake their marriage was. If she only knew what his mother knew, the true reason behind Viktor’s apathy, then maybe she wouldn’t care so much.

As he neared his bedroom he could hear the distinct sound of Yurio crying. His head throbbed, but he couldn’t really blame the boy. He must have been hungry, he thought, he probably just needed something to eat. However, as he reached the door, it wasn’t the noise but a peculiar, familiar smell what caught his attention. When he got into the room he already knew what he would find, yet that didn’t make him any less disappointed.

“For the love of God, Adelia! Here? Did you really need to bring that crap here!?”

There was his wife, lying loosely on top of the armrest, surrounded by cloud of smoke. Yurio was on the ground, face red and soaked with tears, as he desperately tried to call her attention.

“What’s your problem?”

“What’s _my_ problem?” He picked up his son, rocking him gently in his arms as he cried into his ear. “Look at you!”

She stretched a bit, too gone to really care about the accusations. Her relaxed arm fell from the side of the armrest, holding the very familiar pipe, the opium’s smoke coming out in threads from its inside.

“Don’t act all hypocrite on me, you used to do this too.” She closed her eyes, exhaling. “May have been the only thing we ever did together as a couple.”

“That was before we had a child.”

Adelia laughed lazily, her eyes closing as her head lolled to the side.

“Darling, opium may be the reason we have a child on the first place” She scoffed. “Don’t act like you care about me or this family. Not now.”

Viktor sighed, hugging Yurio close. He needed to get him away from there, the kid didn’t deserve to listen to all that. Without really feeling the need to respond, he left the room and closed the door behind him so that the smell wouldn’t spread around the house. There were still noises coming from downstairs, probably the kitchen, as the servants put everything away. His mother was inside her room already, which gave him some sense of relief.

The library was his best option. It was small and silent, and if the couch was just as comfortable as he remembered, then it would be perfect for the child to rest. He asked Yuuko if she could bring him a bowl of mashed bananas and a spoon, and meanwhile he turned on an oil lamp so that they could have some light.

“Can I help?” Yurio asked. He had always liked to see how adults played with fire.

Viktor smiled, letting him sit on his lap.

“You can see how I do it, but no touching.”

The kid watched, mesmerized by the light’s movement. His father showed him how to make a shadow bunny with his hands, which he failed to imitate, and limited himself to the easy butterfly.

“Look at this one.” Viktor showed him a dog, barking in a silly voice and pretending to eat Yurio’s butterfly.

“No! Can you do a tiger? I want a tiger.”

Before he had to admit he had no idea how to do a big cat, Yuuko knocked the door with a tray in hand. She brought the mashed bananas for the child, and added a cup of tea for his tired father. He thanked her wholeheartedly, and wished her a good night when she announced she and the rest of the staff were going to rest.

Viktor fed Yurio his food, and after he was done he convinced him to try to sleep.

“Why must I sleep on the couch?” He asked all pouty, hiding his face on a cushion. “I want to sleep in bed.”

“Shhhh.” Viktor poked his nose, trying to make him smile. “Mom is busy right now, I promise to take you to the bed once she’s done with what she’s doing.”

“I don’t like it here, I want to go back home.”

“Hey, it ain’t that bad. This used to be my house when I was little.”

“When you were my age?”

“When I was your age, yes. And many years more.” He whispered, seeing the kid was beginning to doze off. “And I was very happy”

“If you were happy, then why did you leave?”

Yurio closed his eyes, slumber wining over curiosity as he finally fell asleep, leaving Viktor to deal with his own thoughts.

He took a deep breath, massaging his temples. He had thought that after so many years, the memories wouldn’t have the same impact on him. Each different room he got into brought a different reminiscence, a different trace of warmth he couldn’t help but cherish. There, in that same library, they had hid together a million times. No one never really read any of the books, so it was usually a safe place for secrecy. Even if he closed his eyes, he could still hear the sound of laughter echoing against the walls, the whispers, the kisses.

Fearing he may go insane if he didn’t get some sleep he stood up, picking Yurio up from the couch carefully, trying not to wake him up. He knew from experience the boy was a heavy sleeper, but he held him comfortably anyways, letting him wrap his tiny arms around his neck and rest his head on his shoulder. With his free hand he grabbed the oil lamp from the desk, since the rest of the mansion was pitch-dark.

The door creaked a bit in his way out, and so did his footstep on the loose wooden floor-plank from the living room. No one seemed to be awake to hear it though. He knew his mother’s sleeping habits, and Adelia usually fell asleep right after smoking. Even if the idea wasn’t his cup of tea, it would be for the better if he slept in bed with his wife for as long as they stayed at the mansion. It would avoid unnecessary tantrums.

All of a sudden, as soon as he turned around the corner and stepped into the staircase, he heard the loose wooden floor-plank from the living room creaking again.

He froze in place, feeling the hairs of his neck beginning to stand one by one. Reminding himself he didn’t believe in ghosts, he let the lamp illuminate the hall behind him; but the oil was running low, and the light wasn’t as wide as before.

“Hello?” He whispered, holding Yurio close and stretching the lamp forwards.

He turned around the corner and into the living room in a swift movement, as if trying to catch someone red-handed. There was nobody there. He moved the lamp around, watching the light play with the shades of the room, the shadow of every piece of furniture growing and melting back in to the darkness as soon as the source of light moved on.

He exhaled, trying to release the tension. The only other presence in the room was his mother’s portrait, as creepy and intimidating as always, but still very unmoving in its place. And just when he was about to relax and go back to his room, the lamp ran out of oil and the fire began to extinguish.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” He said to himself, watching the flame dissolve into smoke.

He cursed in the darkness, thinking he would have to guide himself by touching every wall. But as his eyes adjusted to the missing source of light, he realized the room wasn’t as dark as it was supposed to. A warm, orange glow was coming from behind his back, and Viktor turned around to the sight of Yuuri’s face illuminated by the faint flame of a candle.

The cold tickles of fear swirled into his stomach, turning into a completely different sensation. His fingers grew numb, almost dropping the oil lamp, as their eyes met through the dimness of the room.

“Yuuri…”

He was wearing his butler uniform, but he had taken off the black jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and his bowtie hanged untied around his neck.

Through seven years he had tried to recreate that same image, to copy his face from his memory and redraw it in his imagination. He looked exactly the same. Maybe a little more mature, with his jaw a bit sharper and his eyes shaded with exhaustion. But it still carried the same essence, and it made Viktor’s heart time travel towards a far, kinder place.

“Hi.” Yuuri spoke, and his voice was a whole new flashback. He looked taken aback, too; his eyes wide and shiny and his mouth agape, speechless.

For a good amount of seconds they just stayed like that, bewitched by the past and its memories, trying to discern a proper feeling out their overwhelmed minds: the sadness, the nostalgia. So much had happen, so much resentment and bitterness had worn out their youthful illusion it was hard to get a grasp. 

In the end, a smile took over them both.

“I can’t believe this.” Viktor chuckled, pursing his lips in disbelief.

He didn’t need to express himself, as Yuuri looked just as bewildered. His smile grew wider as he gave a step forward, eyes attached to his own.

“Neither do I. I’m…”

For a second the spell was broken, as his gaze derailed to the child sleeping in the other’s arms.

Viktor noticed immediately, taking a quick glance at his son as well. Fortunately he hadn’t woken up, as he cuddled onto his father’s chest with his eyes still closed.

“Yeah, I have yet to introduce you two.” He said, intimidated by the silence. “This is Yurio, my son.”

Yuuri stared ceaselessly; with an indecipherable expression of amusement. He got closer, using the candle to look at the child more in detail. With a thread of a voice, he said:

“He looks just like you.”

Something lighted inside Viktor’s chest; like the light of the candle, it was soft and warm and vague, playing with the shadows inside of him.

“Not really, he’s got both Adelia’s eyes and hair, and her temper as well. Hell, this kid is _stubborn_.”

Yuuri smirked, looking up at him again.

“Are you kidding? He definitely got that from you.”

They both laughed quietly, not wanting to wake up the kid. It was ridiculous, but as their eyes met, Viktor felt like time hadn’t really passed at all. All those seven years that had felt so long and slow and in which so much stuff had happened, were nothing but a blink.

“God, I missed you.” He said, unable to contain himself.

“Me too, this is surreal.”

“How are things around here? How’s everyone? I barely recognize the staff anymore.”

Yuuri shrugged, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“Well, Phichit is still working in the garden. And Yuuko is the housekeeper now.”

“Yeah, I saw her around”

“She’s got kids now, you know?”

“For real?”

“Triplets. Three girls.”

“No way!” Viktor covered his mouth, realizing he had raised his voice a bit. “Are they Takeshi’s?”

To that, Yuuri sulked a bit.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, he passed away five years ago.” He lowered his head respectfully. “It’s been hard for Yuuko, I help her as much as I can.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s ok. The girls are great though, they help a lot. I convinced your mother of letting them stay at the staff house with us if they helped with the chores.”

Servants lived at the other side of the garden, inside a gloomy building with a small room for each. It was hard to ignore how crowded it must have got.

“How old are they?”

“Almost six.” Yuuri said, turning to Yurio. “What about yours?”

Viktor looked at the kid affectionately, making sure he was still comfortable.

“He’s three.” He said. “Did you know I was a father? Or are you finding out just now?”

“Your mother told me, of course. She makes sure to tell me anything that might make me upset.”

Viktor furrowed his mouth.

“Was she bad to you?”

“Yeah, but I fought back. Since she can’t really fire me because of your promise, I’ve learnt to defy her through the years.”

Bringing up the promise caused both of them to grimace, the mood deflating as they stared at the ground, remembering the other side of the story. The scene was starting to feel like the present again.

Yuuri sulked, opening his mouth but closing it right away. He was so beautiful, even in anguish, even exhausted and older. Viktor waited for him to gather his thoughts in silence, just like he used to do. The candle melted slowly on the copper plate, drops of white wax falling down its sides as the seconds passed by.

“Thank you.” He heard him say after a while.

Viktor didn’t ask, he knew perfectly well what he was talking about. Without thinking, he slowly took his free hand to cup the other’s cheek, looking at him in a trance.

Yet, Yuuri pulled away. He gave a step backwards, breaking the touch reluctantly. Viktor blinked, disoriented, until he followed the other’s gaze: his eyes were fixed on Yurio.

“Things have changed.” He said, looking away.

Viktor understood, immediately retracting. He fixed a strand of his son’s hair away from his sleepy face. The present wasn’t as kind as the past, but it had its own things.

“Yeah. They did change.” He sighed, feeling his back growing tired from carrying the kid for so long. “I should take Yurio to bed before he wakes up.”

“Of course, yeah. I should go to sleep as well, your mother wants me up at seven every day.”

Viktor nodded, almost turning around to leave, until he realized the oil lamp wasn’t working anymore and that he wouldn’t have any light.

“Don’t worry.” Yuuri said, reading his mind. “I’ll stay here with the candle until you get upstairs.”

As he made his way up to his room, with Yurio beginning to shift a little in his tired arms, he couldn’t help but turning around. He looked at Yuuri, surrounded by the orange halo of the candlelight, and he was struck by the absurd fear he might not see him again.

He knew he would; after all, Adelia and he would stay in the mansion for a couple more weeks, and it would be inevitable to run across the butler.

But it wouldn’t be the same.

So before that dream-like sample from the past ended, and before they were back to being just master and servant, he smiled at him.

“I don’t regret my decision.” He said. “But I wished things would have been different for us”

*******

“So cute! Look at him!”

“Green eyes! Beautiful young man!”

“He kind of looks like you Myriam! I can see it!”

Viktor watched contently from afar, sipping on his tea, as a horde of middle-aged ladies squished the life out of Yurio’s cheeks. For once, he wasn’t the center of attention of his mother’s tea parties.

He hid his amusement behind his cup, chuckling to himself. He knew his son too well, and he knew his temper was short.

“Look at that frown! Why so frowny, baby boy?” Gertrude poked him between his knitted brows. “You’ll get wrinkles so young!”

Yurio tried to bite her finger.

“Oh!” They all laughed in unison, ignoring the kid’s hatred and thinking of it as cute, which made him even angrier. “We have a little piranha over here!”

Viktor certainly didn’t miss being in his place. He had been introduced to all of those women’s daughters in the past, hoping he would choose one to marry. Now that he was already married, the attention fell on the brand new member of the family.

Taking a biscuit into his mouth, he leaned on the couch’s backrest. He’d save him from the torture, eventually. But he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Would you like some more early grey, miss?” Yuuri interrupted softly, serving them tea.

Viktor kept ogling him, always enchanted by his sweetness and his politeness. There was something in the way he talked, something that exceeded the servants’ usual courtesy. He smiled at everyone so kindly, even when he wasn’t treated the same way. 

His mother cleared her throat next to him; he had been staring for too long.

“Ok ladies, it’s time for prince Yurio over here to have his afternoon snack.” He said, as a mere distraction, patting the space next to him on the sofa. “Come here, son”

Yurio stood up swiftly, almost desperate, running away from the wrinkled hands that wouldn’t stop touching him. He jumped next to his father, which made him look so nice and obedient, yet Viktor knew his true colors.

“Nuh-uh!” He saw him trying to grab a biscuit from the plate. “That’s too much sugar for you.”

“Just one!” The kid reached out anyways, grabbing the whole plate.

“Yurio…” He picked him up, making him sit on his lap and taking the plate away from his hands. Yet, as he saw the pouty look on his plump face, he took a biscuit and split it in two. “Ok, just a half.”

Viktor could see the butler in the corner of his eye, staring at the scene with fondness.

“Yuuri.”

The sound of his name seemed to bring him back to reality. He raised his head, disoriented.

“Oh.” He blinked several times “Yes sir?”

“Could you please bring some warm milk for Yurio?”

“Yes, sure sir.”

He left quickly, walking with short, hurried steps towards the kitchen. He could literally feel his mother’s disapproval as he stared at him.

“Such a caring father you turned out to be, Viktor!” One of the ladies, Margaret, forced him back into the social circle. “I’d never have imagined.”

“Indeed!” added Gertrude. “Who’d have known?”

Viktor smiled politely, trying not to give them his back as he prevented Yurio from stuffing the entire biscuit into his mouth.

“Maybe a little feminine, even. Shouldn’t his mother be here to feed him?”

“Very true! That’s the mother’s duty!”

“Where’s your wife, Viktor?”

It kept getting harder to keep the elegant, happy façade.

“Oh, Adelia is upstairs.” He said, avoiding details.

“Tell her to come here! We want to meet her!”

“Yeah, we want to see the lady who finally stole your heart!”

All the ladies seemed to agree on that, nodding and talking over each other, demanding to see Adelia.

The truth was, she almost didn’t leave the room. It had been three weeks since they got there, and she showed no interest in socializing with Viktor’s environment. They barely talked, and when they did, they argued.

But that wasn’t something his mother’s friends wanted to listen as they sat on flowered couches and sipped on bergamot tea.

“I’m sorry, she’s not feeling well today. Maybe next time.”

*******

Viktor felt exhausted from doing nothing all day. Boredom made him miss his job, somehow. It wasn’t precisely interesting, but it at least kept him distracted from everyday life.

After his mother’s friends left, he took Yurio outside to play in the garden. He sat and watched him run around, grabbing insects with his hands and chasing after toads. Before dinner was ready, he had to take him to the laundry room and try to clean the mud off his trousers. He failed miserably.

“What happened to his clothes, Viktor?” His mother asked, observant as always, as she watched them walk in.

“I grabbed a toad!” Yurio raised his dirty hands in the air, proud of himself. His grandma wasn’t amused.

“He grabbed a toad.” Viktor shrugged, as if there were nothing he could have done about it.

“I named it Puma Tiger Scorpion.”

“That’s a great name, buddy.”

The woman rolled her eyes in annoyance, giving them her back.

“Please, give him a bath before you sit at the table.”

They ended up having dinner quite late, since it was difficult to convince the toddler of getting into the bathtub. The servants seemed to be waiting for them to finish so that they could go back to their rooms, so Viktor felt like he needed to hurry a bit. He noticed Yurio was beginning to doze off; which was logical, considering how much he had ran around all the afternoon. So, as soon as he was done eating, he grabbed him by the hand and guided him all the way upstairs.

He was surprised as he saw Adelia wasn’t in the room. Unfortunately, there were traces of her everywhere: she had been looking through his old books, apparently, since they were all scattered around; her suitcase was open on the floor with dresses and undergarments flooding from the inside, and the opium pipe was carefully placed on the nightstand.

She used to do the same thing back at their own house, in which she made a mess and then wouldn’t let the maids clean it. As she spend all day locked inside the bedroom, it was only a matter of time since it became total chaos.

Since she wasn’t there, Viktor took his time as he tucked Yurio into his side of the bed. He hadn’t been sleeping with his wife, after a week they both got tired of pretending and he started spending the nights at the library’s couch. So it was usually their son who took the other side of the bed, which was big and comfortable.

“Will you sleep here tonight?” The kid asked with lidded eyes, fighting against slumber as his father covered him with the blanket.

“No, buddy, I’m sorry. Your mom will be here at any second though, you won’t be alone.”

“I don’t want mom to come here.”

Viktor grew alert, kneeling next to him.

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“She is mean.” Yurio frowned. “Says ugly stuff”

“What kind of ugly stuff?”

He covered his face with the pillow and grunted, seemingly uncomfortable with the conversation.

“She shouts.”

Viktor felt sore in his own impotence, outraged about his wife and about himself, as he couldn’t do anything about it. He hid his anger in the clenching of his fist, taking his other hand to caress his son’s hair.

“It’s ok, don’t worry” He said softly. “She just has a loud voice.”

“Is she angry at me?”

The look in his eyes was killing him, burning guilt into his conscience.

“No, she isn’t angry at you. She’s mad at everybody, I guess.”

He took a deep breath, sitting against the bed. He didn’t want to leave Yurio alone in such a vulnerable state, so he waited for him to doze off before he stood up. Adelia was still nowhere to be found, but he surely needed to have a talk with her.

Lighting up a candle with the room’s oil lamp, he made sure the kid was asleep one more time before he left. He made his way downstairs and towards the library, carrying a blanket and a pillow like he did every night. First he’d leave his stuff in there, and then he’d go look for Adelia.

But it wasn’t necessary. As he opened the door to the library, he saw light coming from the inside, and found his wife in her nightgown, sitting on top of the desk with a book in her hands.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, taken aback, as he had never really seen her read.

“Oh, darling, hi.” She said, putting down the book as if she only then noticed he had come into the room. “Nothing, nothing. Just reading some very interesting story I found…quite controversial.”

Viktor stood firm, leaving the candle on top of the desk and crossing his arms, ready to give her a good piece of his mind.

“The only controversial story we need to address is your hell of an attitude. You are a terrible influence for Yurio”

“Me? Oh, darling, I think you must be confused.” She spoke with unsettling peacefulness, nothing to do with her usual character. “I’m not the one who’s in fault here.”

“What are you talking about?”

Adelia raised her thin eyebrows, clearing her throat and flipping through a few pages of the book.

“ _August the 23 rd. I write these words with pity, pulse shaken by shame. I feel troubled for my actions but I do more for my lack of regret._” She read, voice slow and theatrical. “ _Last night, when he came into my room to grab my clothing and take it to the laundry room, I asked him to stay.”_

Only then, Viktor recognized the cover of the book.

“Adelia, give that back.” He said, lightheaded with dread, trying to take it away from her hands. “Please.”

But his wife was fast.

“ _I’m scared of my own boldness, my own hands that dared to touch him. That man, with his unmeasurable kindness and manners, accepted my improper suggestions without a second thought. He saved the money in his uniform’s pocket and let me caress him, run my hands up and down his chest and back.”_ She jumped off the desk, giving him her back as she continued to recite. “ _Never had I touched a man like that before; never had my fingertips crave skin the way they did. He, responsible for my appetite, alluring and corrupting creature, just stared the whole time.”_

Viktor chased after her and she climbed onto the couch, sitting on top of the backrest and pushing him back with her bare foot.

_“Guilt wouldn’t let me take his clothes off, though desire insisted harshly. After he left, everything I touched felt cold against my burning skin. My burning soul, haunted forever by sin, just wished for him to return.”_

The weight of shame had his knees buckling, his hands shaking as he tried to take his old diary away from her.

“Please, it’s not what it seems like. That was a long time ago.”

“Oh? But there’s more!” She insisted. “Let’s see…what should I read next? The explicit descriptions of profane intercourse? Or the part in which you admit your undying love for each other?”

Viktor gave up, realizing there was no use: she had already read it all.

“I can explain.” He tried, even though he knew he couldn’t.

“I bet you can.” Adelia snorted. She got off the couch and started walking around the room. “Actually, it’s the first explanation I ever get, it all makes sense now! The apathy, the lack of intimacy…”

“I’m very sorry Adelia, I wish I could have told you. It’ a complicated matter, you wouldn’t understand.”

She turned to look at him, face solemn and serious, hands clenched around the diary.

“I wouldn’t understand, you say?” She raised her voice. “You know what I do understand? I may now know lots about law, but I know sodomy is a major crime…”

Viktor’s blood froze.

“You wouldn’t dare”

“Oh? Is that your voice cracking I hear?” She smirked. “Are you scared?”

“Adelia, don’t mess around! We have a child together! You can’t just accuse me of sodomy!”

“I can and I will, if you keep getting in my nerves.”

A million thoughts hit his mind at the same time; long trials that ended in tragedy, lovers losing their lives, children losing their fathers.

“What do you want?” He asked, lowering his head in defeat.

Instead of answering, Adelia kept reading.

 _“…and I wish I could live forever in an instant, all my life reduced to the moment he’s in me, chest pressed against mine as he whispers in my ear. Yuuri Katsuki, naked body and naked soul, telling me he loves me in a warm breath.”_ She faked a gasp. “Oh, I wonder if this incriminates him too…”

“What do you want!?” Viktor repeated, hitting the desk with his closed fists, breathless. “Please, tell me what to do.”

“There’s little you can do, Viktor. You already ruined my life; marrying me without love, without love for women, leaving me wondering what I did wrong through all this time. All I wanted was a loving husband, a nice family.” Adelia spoke firmly, coldly. “Your selfishness took that dream away.”

“I’ll grant you a divorce, if that’s what you want.”

“And be the family’s disappointment? No, thank you. Plus, who’d like to marry a divorced woman? And with a son!” She shook her head. “I’m doomed.”

Viktor leaned against the desk as he tried to find some balance. Even if he recognized her words as true, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any empathy. He was caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Then what can I do for you?”

She smiled.

“Well, darling. From now on, you’ll have to do just as I say. I’ll make all decisions, regards finances, and regards Yurio’s education. I don’t want you to spend that much time with him, much less alone. I don’t want him to turn out like you.”

He clenched his jaw, feeling his eyes begin to tear up.

“Do you want me to stay away from my own son?”

“It’s that, or being accused for your crimes and never seeing him again.” She said, so very serious. “Your choice.”

Viktor stormed out of the room, anguish red and blazing in his sternum. Every muscle in his body felt tense and tightening: his fists, his brow, his toes curling inside his shoes. He wanted to yell out of raw anger and impotence, but he wouldn’t give Adelia that victory.

He slammed the door shut and grabbed his head in his hands. But when he was about to scream bloody murder, he saw his mother standing right there, holding a candle in the dimness of the hall.

She had surely heard the argument, and she looked like she was about to say something. He had no time for it.

“Save your words.” He interrupted her, ignoring the darkness and walking away.

He wasn’t really thinking as he made his way through the pitch black house, walking hurriedly and bumping onto walls until he got to the back door. The fresh air of the garden felt intrusive against his heated skin, damp with sweat and almost fuming; crimson, sore and enflamed, in contrast with the white moonlight. Something inside of him was threatening to burst, throbbing in his chest with persistent fury.

He didn’t know where he was going until he found himself there, knocking on the door frenetically.

Yuuri opened slowly, peeking through the aperture. When he saw who it was, both the door and his eyes shot open widely.

“Viktor” He was in his undergarments, linen shirt and pants, probably ready to sleep. “Is everything ok?”

Viktor stepped restlessly into the room, into the orange halo of candlelight. It was just like he remembered: small and neglected, white walls stained by humidity, and an old wooden wardrobe and bed taking over most of the space. Somehow, Yuuri managed to keep it tidy and cozy, with his books piled up and his butler uniform hanging neatly from the wardrobes’ door.

It felt surreal, earnest and nostalgic, so soft against his cramped body.

“Viktor?” He said his name again, sounding audibly concerned.

Viktor looked at his gentle face, his hair rebelling against its hairdo and falling awkwardly onto his forehead. That image, so kind and warm, melted his stoic rage into liquid anguish; elusive and dripping out of his grasp, his every sense of control.

Before he knew he was pulling Yuuri into a tight hug, crying painfully onto his chest.

Yuuri said nothing, simply closing the door with his foot. In no second, he wrapped his arms around his shaking shoulders, letting him sob in peace.

Viktor grasped his shirt, letting go of some tension through the hold as he wept loudly.

“It’s ok, Vitya. It’s ok.”

As he tried to catch his breath, he started to come back to his senses. His sight was still blurry with tears; but he could feel the loving hands rubbing against his back, the warmth of the embrace and the smell of the other’s skin, saved so dearly inside his memory.

Yuuri guided him towards the bed and both of them sat down. He took a hand to his shoulder, waiting patiently for him to calm down.

Viktor rested his forearms against his knees, exhausted from the breakdown, and took a deep breath.

“She knows.” It was the only thing he managed to say.

“What?”

“Adelia knows about us. She found an old diary of mine.” As he spoke, his leg began to bounce nervously. “If I don’t do everything she says she’ll accuse me of sodomy.”

Yuuri visibly tensed, gripping his shoulder tighter.

“What does she want?”

“She wants to keep me away from Yurio, Yuuri. She’s mean and irresponsible and an opium addict and she wants to raise him by herself. I don’t know what to do.”

“Run away.”

“I can’t, if I do my mom will fire you. You still have a family to take care of, and Yuuko’s girls will…”

Yuuri grabbed him by both of his arms, forcing him to stop mourning and look at him in the eye.

“Run away, Viktor. You already sacrificed enough for me.” His voice was coarse and fiery, intense. “She can’t keep you away from your son. Go pick him up and leave right now.”

“I can’t do that! It’s too selfish.”

“No it’s not! Yurio needs his father! Do you want Adelia to do as she pleases and take care of him alone?”

“Never.”

“Then get it together! Do you have enough money to leave the country?”

“Well, yeah…” Viktor tried to think, but it was hard when he was so overwhelmed by emotion. “I inherited my father’s house in the Netherlands and a bunch of money.”

“Then it’s settled! You can totally go there and…”

“No, Yuuri.” Viktor let go of his hold, looking down to the floor. “Adelia knows you used to be my lover. What if she accuses you instead?”

Now, it was Yuuri’s turn to deflate.

He stayed silent for a while, watching his own hands as he played with his nails anxiously. It was obvious how laborious it was for him to gather the courage, the voice, to speak again.

“I don’t mind.” He said, straightening his posture with pride. “I don’t mind if they accuse me, I…”

“Don’t even think about it.” Viktor cut him off.

“But if you escape, then you could…”

“I won’t leave and that’s my final statement.” He stared at him intensely, with fiery determination. “I won’t risk your life nor anyone’s for this.”

Yuuri nodded reluctantly, obviously unhappy with the resolve.

“And what will you do, then?”

Viktor tried to make the answer don’t sound as terrible, but it felt revolting coming out his mouth.

“I’ll have to deal with it. Seize my little time with Yurio as much as I can, as much as Adelia lets me. She spends all day high on opium so I doubt she’ll notice if we spend a while together anyways”

“It’s so unfair.”

“I know. I have no other choice.”

“That woman has respect for nothing.” Yuuri insisted, still mad and frustrated. “Not for you, nor for Yurio.”

Yet, Viktor was beginning to fall into numb resignation. He shrugged, feeling like he was running out of anger, out of bellicose tears to cry.

“I may deserve this, though, who knows. I did give her a pathetic marriage, after all…”

Yuuri stood up abruptly, and began to stomp around the room in fretful wrath.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” He complained, walking in circles.

“What?”

“You can’t truly think that! Viktor, you had your own fair amount of tragedy, and that doesn’t make you an asshole! You are a good man and a caring father! Don’t let that…that damned _ratbag_ tell you otherwise!” He stopped his march in front of him. “I don’t care if she isn’t happy with the marriage, you didn’t even know each other when your mother forced you together! And it’s not like you did it for your good, you weren’t happy with the idea either. And now you have to go around complying to her every whim because she’s threatening you? Don’t you dare give her the satisfaction of being the victim!”

Viktor couldn’t even bring himself to formulate an answer as his body moved by itself and, in a swift motion, he stood up and grabbed Yuuri by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for a rough kiss.

The response was immediate; in no time there was a hand grasping at the hair of his nape and another wrapped firmly around his waist, dragging him even further.

“This is wrong.” He said in between kisses, voice coarse and interrupted. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You are right.” Yuuri bit his bottom lip. “It’s immoral, you have a son.”

“I have a son.” Another kiss. “We can’t do…”

“We shouldn’t…”

The chatter died as Viktor began to unbutton the other’s shirt, mouths merged and moving and hands everywhere, never stopping their motion. They pressed their bodies together, grinded onto each other until Yuuri pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top of him.

Angry, overworked brains got clouded, submitted to the primal relief. Not a single thought could cross their mind, it would only burn and melt in the process, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Viktor didn’t think what he was doing, and at the same time he was hyper aware. His consciousness worked in flashes, fast overlaps of sensations: Yuuri’s lips against his throat, the movement of his hips, his torso suddenly naked.

They kissed like there was no tomorrow, and made love like there was no today; like the world around them, that warm and surreal reality, would vanish if they dared to stop. There were no words. Only noises could be heard, kisses and breaths and hums bouncing between the walls, flooding the small room with echoes and steam.

By the time they were finished, when their heartbeats began to slow down and the sweat dried coldly against their skins, the candle had already melted off. They could clearly see each other’s faces in the dark, contoured in white by the peeking moonlight. Hugging each other close and catching their breaths, they smiled.

“I love you” Yuuri cooed, looming above him, kissing him again.

“You have no idea, not the remotest idea of how much I missed this, how much I needed it.”

Silence was beautiful and loving, perfectly interrupted by the cicadas outside and the sighs of contentment.

Viktor almost fell asleep, appeased under the soft touch of lingering fingers. He positioned himself comfortably onto the other’s chest, about to surrender to slumber; until a blunt thought shook him awake.

“Come to the Netherlands with me.”

Yuuri looked down at him, the glint of their eyes meeting in the darkness.

“You are insane.”

“I’m not. The Netherlands doesn’t have a penalty for sodomy, so in the very improbable case Adelia somehow finds us, she has no power over us.”

He seemed to consider it for a second, almost hopeful, but he shook his head right away.

“There’s no way I can go, my parents are elder and I still need to take care of…”

“They can come too.” Viktor insisted, too convinced with his own delirium. “Yuuri, it’s perfect. With the money I inherited we can start up a business, a restaurant or something. If we all collaborate it can’t be that hard.”

His lover simply stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape, trying to make some sense out of the proposition.

“But…how are we going to do it? It would take days of preparations, I need to go visit my family and tell them, convince them! What if Adelia wants to leave before we get to plan it out?”

“I think it’s worth the try.” Viktor bit his own grin. “What do you think?”

Yuuri tried to speak, a million doubts bubbling inside his mouth like rabies without taking any shape, without finding a good enough of a reason to actually say no.

“Ok.” He nodded, both scared and thrilled, beaming in the dark. “Let’s do it.”

***

Viktor hadn’t meant to spend the night there. Only when he woke up the next morning, still between Yuuri’s arms and with his nose buried in his hair, he realized he had fallen asleep. He cuddled further into the embrace, seeing Yuuri was still sound asleep. He kissed his shoulder, neck and jaw, softly, making sure not to wake him up. Inside his fogged mind there was no hurry. He wasn’t awake enough to realize it was fully daytime outside, and that the butler surely had some business to attend.

He was about to doze off again, when three loud bangs on the door shook them both awake.

“Yuuri! Yuuri wake up!”

“It’s 7:30!”

“The madam will wake up any minute!”

The lovers looked at each other, fully back on their senses. Yuuri’s eyes shot open in panic as soon as he recognized the voices of the triplets, and he flew towards the door when he realized they were trying to open it.

“I’m sorry girls! I overslept!” He said, holding the door closed against the triple pressure. “Don’t come in!”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t changed yet.”

A round of girly giggles was heard from the other side of the door, and both of them used that small distraction to quickly gather their clothes around the room and get dressed.

 _“Where are my pants??”_ Viktor mouthed, voice silent and face unnerved.

Yuuri shrugged, putting on his shirt and his suit, almost choking himself with his bowtie as he tried it too tight.

“Come oooooon Yuuri!”

“We’ll get old!”

“Mom is waiting for you to have breakfast!”

By the time he opened the door both of them were fully clothed, at least. A bit disheveled and untidy, but presentable nevertheless.

The three girls jumped onto him at the same time. Axel tied her tiny arms around his neck and clung onto his back, while the other two held each of his legs. Yuuri laughed, almost losing his balance.

“Calm down! Here I am!” He said, trying to move and failing miserably. “Tell your mom I’m sorry, I’ll go right away!”

Meanwhile, Viktor simply stared, figuring out how to feel. First there was a cozy, sweet sensation blooming from the sight of Yuuri with the kids, so natural and wholesome, full of genuine affection. But it suddenly embittered as he realized he was going to separate them, taking their sole fatherly figure to the continent.

Before he could wrap his mind around it, he was forced out of his train of thought as he realized the triplets where intensely ogling him, visibly confused.

“Is that the madam’s son?”

“What is he doing here?”

“Was he inside the room while you were dressing?”

Yuuri’s face turned burgundy. He looked at Viktor for him to improvise an excuse, but he was even more baffled.

“No, no! Of course not” He simply said, invoking children’s innocence. “He got into the room right after you.” 

The girls stared at each other for a second and shrugged it off right away. The lovers sighed in relief, their souls returning to their bodies.

“I was just here to give Yuuri some instructions.” Viktor played innocent. “But if you hadn’t have breakfast yet, it can wait.”

“Well, come on then!” Lutz let go of Yuuri’s leg and took his hand instead, pulling him out from the room. “It’s so late!”

“Momma has bread and butter!”

“She’s waiting!”

The three children ran across the garden, pointing at the main house and calling out for him, telling him to hurry up.

Yet, the butler turned to look at his master, distracted with obvious thoughts. Before he could even voice a doubt Viktor cut him off.

“We’ll talk later.” He said, walking outside with him and patting his shoulder affectionately. “Go have breakfast.”

***

The next two weeks were full of intense preparations.

The hardest part was getting organized, since they couldn’t really talk to each other a lot. Adelia still spent most of the day locked in the bedroom, only that this time she kept Yurio with her. She wasn’t really an obstacle. Viktor had convinced her of staying in town for a few more weeks with some excuse about business, and apart from her constant complains she didn’t bring any trouble. His mother seemed to be as alert as ever though. Being a smart and observant person, she could clearly smell there was something going on. She kept asking questions, following them around, trying to overhear conversations.

In the end, the best moments to meet and talk where during the nights. They made a solid plan and tried to complete it as swiftly as possible: first item on the list was talking with Yuuri’s parents.

The elderly couple lived in a small house in a working class neighborhood. Yuuri’s sister, Mari, worked 10 daily hours at a factory for a very poor payment; but adding both of their salaries they managed to put food on the table every day. It wouldn’t be hard to convince them to move out for a better life, really. The only problem would be explaining the reason.

They were nervous, of course, but they decided to go together. Yuuri said that if they met Viktor, they would be so enamored with his looks and his manners it may distract them from the controversy of the situation. They made sure to go on a Sunday afternoon, so that Mari would be there too. Yuuri knocked on the door and, when his mother saw who it was, she immediately jumped to hug him and cover him with kisses. He hadn’t been home in a really long time.

After the first rush of contentment from having their son around, his parents began to wonder why had his master come along. They had received numerous letters that spoke wonders of him, describing him as a kind, generous employer and human being. It was certainly unusual for him to go visit his servant’s family, but they acted generous nevertheless, serving them the cheapest tea Viktor had ever tasted.

The chatter went straight to the point. They had considered avoiding the truth, saying Viktor was forced to move to the Netherlands because of business, and that he was happy enough with his butler’s services he was willing to bring him and his family along. Yet, Yuuri opted for the truth. He knew his parents were sympathetic and, most importantly, they were indebted to him. Their son had sacrificed his life for them, almost didn’t see a cent from his own salary, as it all went to them. Also, they trusted his judgement blindly. Yuuri was cultured and well-read, while his parents had been illiterate all of their lives.

So, when they finally confessed their true relationship, they were surprised but not horrified. They asked questions, of course. They seemed to be worried more than anything, knowing sodomy was a crime and barely knowing anything about homosexuality. Mari looked a bit calmer about it, saying she had two fellow workmates at the factory who were romantically involved.

By the end of the afternoon, after Viktor took the floor and began to explain his business project for the Netherlands, doubts had clearly deflated. He promised them a better house, a better job for both of their children; and most importantly, he promised to care for Yuuri no matter what.

“I like the way he looks at you.” Hiroko had whispered, as she hugged her son goodbye at the door.

They settled to meet at the port the day of their departure. The Katsukis wouldn’t have to do much, just pack their things and wait. Viktor would take care of the rest.

The next step was to buy the tickets for the ship. They weren’t as expensive as they had thought, but considering they had to buy for five adults and a toddler it was quite a number. The soonest they could book was a week and a half from then, very early in the morning. Yuuri wrote his parents to specify the day and the time.

Finally, Viktor had to make sure to erase his every footstep. He managed to fake a document saying he sold the house at the Netherlands, and made sure to talk about it with Adelia. It was also a good excuse as why he was carrying money around, and the house’s deed. He wrote a letter to his father’s business partner as well, telling him he would quit the job. 

Everything went on smoothly, without major inconveniences; and by the escapade’s eve, they already had everything ready.

They packed very little clothes and belongings. Viktor had to buy new clothes for Yurio, since he couldn’t grab the one he already had from Adelia’s belongings. They filled a sole suitcase for the both of them and hid it under Yuuri’s bed. As always, Viktor didn’t sleep in his own room with his wife. He spent the night at the library, waiting patiently, and finishing with the preparations in silence.

As soon as the sky began to glow with the first traces of daytime, Viktor looked for Yurio upstairs. It was still very dark, and he barely saw anything without a candle, but he didn’t want to wake up Adelia. He opened the door, slowly. The air of the room had the faint scent of opium, which calmed him down. He knew his wife slept rather profoundly after smoking.

Yurio was sleeping deeply as well, so he picked him up from the bed without waking him up, and making his way out in tiptoes. Downstairs, Yuuri was waiting for them with their luggage, and wearing normal clothes rather than his butler uniform for the first time in a long while. 

“Looking good.” Viktor whispered, earning a nervous sigh for an answer.

Yuuko and the girls took turns to say goodbye. They did it quickly and silently, but extremely mournfully. The triplets clung onto Yuuri’s legs, refusing to let go; Viktor could see tears in Yuuko’s eyes, as she grabbed her friend’s face between her hands and kissed his forehead lovingly.

“Thank you so much for everything” She heard her murmur, before she hug him one last time.

Viktor stared painfully, but he was sure they would see them again. Maybe in the future, if their plans in the Netherlands worked out, they could invite the Nishigoris as well.

The scene was interrupted by the sound of galloping and neighing: their ride had just arrived. Yuuko and the triplets went back to the servants’ house, and Yuuri grabbed the luggage to take it outside. Viktor opened the door for him, but before they could leave the house for good, he heard a noise coming from the stairs.

His mother was standing right there in her nightgown, eyes wide, staring at them.

Viktor’s heart dropped to his stomach. He exchanged a quick, panicked glance with his lover, as they saw their plans crumble right before their eyes. There was no lie he could come up to, no excuse and no escape, no possible reaction to offer.

He lowered his head, waiting for the scolding, the screaming. He heard nothing. As he looked at his mother, he saw no anger in her eyes. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she nodded in silence. And let them go.

By the time they got into the carriage, Viktor’s heart was still beating violently in his ears. He was confused and overwhelmed; the look in his mother’s eyes burnt forever inside his conscience. As the cart started to move, he looked out the window and saw his house growing smaller in the distance. He hugged Yurio close, still sleeping against his shoulder.

Anxiety made its way into his chest, itching uncomfortably. Things were happening so fast he barely had time to digest. There were so many questions flying around his head, so many feelings and inconclusive goodbyes.

He hadn’t noticed his leg was bouncing nervously until Yuuri placed his hand on top of it. He turned to look at him and found him smiling, reassuringly, and it induced him calmness.

“It’ll be ok.” He said, caressing his knee. “We’ll be fine”

Viktor placed his hand on top of his and stroked it softly.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”


	4. XX Century

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for a big list full of SORRY  
> First of all, sorry this is so shitty.   
> Second, I'm SO sorry for how long this took me. I spent two weeks at my boyfriend's, which included a lot of family drama and my mother having a rage quit because HOW DARE YOU BE 22 YEARS OLD AND HAVE A SEXUAL LIFE???   
> And last but not least, sorry this is absolute crap I'm so sorry I know I said it already but   
> u know  
> shame

Viktor didn’t quite remember when he had fallen asleep.

More specifically, he didn’t feel like he had slept at all: he was still tired, his eyes felt swollen and heavy, and daylight hadn’t arrived in a sudden blink but in a long, gradual process of confusion. He had spent all night in a limbo, not sure if asleep or awake. The memories, fantasies and nightmares kept merging inside his brain and making no sense whatsoever, becoming indistinguishable from each other: the sound of distant explosions, screaming, his parents, crying, the fire at the bar, soldiers on the streets, darkness. Yuuri. Holding his hand, kissing him, trembling between his arms. He was pretty sure that had been real.

The first certainty he got, as he blinked the slumber away and looked around, was that he wasn’t at his own bed. He sat up, confirming he was at Yuuri’s room. Blue pajamas were folded tidily on top of the desk’s chair, and his glasses’ case was open and empty on the nightstand. Yet, their owner was nowhere to be found.

Fear wasn’t late to make its way into his chest, twisting inside his ribcage. He didn’t fear it may all have been just a dream; he was sure they had kissed, he wasn’t delirious. What he dreaded though, was the reason behind his absence.

He stood up and made his way to his room, he could hear noise coming from the kitchen. Why hadn’t Yuuri stay in bed with him? Why didn’t he wake him up? As he changed into his everyday clothes, he couldn’t help but wondering if he had maybe pressed too far again. Last time they had kissed his friend had ignored him for days, and this time it would be even worse: the moment had been even more risqué, more intimate.

He thought he remembered Yuuri say something in the dark, something beautiful that made his cheeks warm up and his stomach burst with butterflies. But it could have been a dream. or a mistake.

His head throbbed; from exhaustion, from crying the previous night, and from the never-ending echoing of the bombs inside his memory. He wondered what he should do, what he should say.

Maybe he should tell Yuuri to forget what happened. It had been a moment of weakness, after all. Maybe he shouldn’t even address the topic and act normal. Staying friends had been difficult for the last couple of months, since his attraction was getting harder and harder to ignore. But he preferred being friends than being nothing.

For a moment he considered waiting for Yuuri to go to work before he grabbed breakfast, and let him have some time to digest what had happened and cool down before they saw each other again. It seemed forced though, less natural.

As he neared the kitchen he was surprised by the faint smell of cooking. None of them really had elaborate breakfasts in the morning, Yuuri usually just grabbed an apple and left. So it caught his attention when he heard the noise of clinking kitchenware and bubbling oil.

He took a peek inside, only to find the table set for two, a big plate filled with potatoes and eggs, and Yuuri cooking sausages in a pan. When he heard him walk in, he turned around with the loveliest smile on his face.

“Oh, there you are! Good morning.” He said, focusing on the cooking again. “I was about to go wake you up”

Viktor just stared, confused, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Yuuri served the sausages on the plate and grabbed the backrest of one of the chairs, letting his weight fall onto it. He stared at the ground, hiding his face, but Viktor could feel his mood deflating a bit anyways.

“I wanted to make up for how bad I’ve been to you lately.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been an ass since… well, since we kissed that night while we were drunk.” Yuuri sighed, gripping the chair tighter. “I was in denial, I was very scared. But I think it’s stupid and useless to ignore what I feel after last night.”

Viktor was in shock, happiness stuck halfway towards recognition as he struggled to process the scene.

“I hope I’m not coming off too strong! It’s ok if you don’t want anything else to happen between us. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, because no one deserves to go through what you did. And I didn’t quite help to make it better so…”

Before he could finish speaking, Viktor was walking the space between them and giving him a tight hug.

“You always make it better.” He mumbled against his shoulder. “Ever since I met you. You always make everything so much better, Yuuri.”

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, chest to chest. They both sighed and relaxed onto the embrace, rocking back and forth a bit.

Viktor dug his nose in his dark hair, taking in his scent; they both used the same cheap shampoo but it always smelt better on him.

Finally, all the noises in his head had shut down.

It was Yuuri who broke the hug, but didn’t quite pull away. He just moved back enough to be able to look at him in the eye, with his hands still grabbing his hips.

“Does that mean…we are ok?” He asked, looking away timidly. But Viktor doubled the stakes and pressed their foreheads together before he could shy away.

“We are more than ok.” He smiled, and let his mouth get closer to his, slowly closing the gap between them.

Yuuri wasn’t late to dive in.

They kissed clumsily, giggling a bit and with their eyes open, watching as if t they couldn’t believe. Viktor pecked his cheek, his nose and the bridge of his glasses, and they both laughed in unison.

“God, for a second I thought you were mad.” Yuuri said in between kisses, caressing the back of his neck.

“You thought _I_ was mad?? I woke up and thought you had packed your suitcase and left me!”

“You are so dramatic” He rolled his eyes.

This time, the kiss was slower, a bit more on the serious side. Any doubt that may have remained in Yuuri’s conscience suddenly melted away.

“Don’t worry, love. We’ll make it through this.” Viktor said, confident. “I have a good feeling.”

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think about this ending? Let me know!


End file.
